


Undone

by starknjarvis



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: F/F, Just Sex, Plot What Plot, this idea came into my head after rereading GtN and i had to write it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26125219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starknjarvis/pseuds/starknjarvis
Summary: Though their first time sleeping together was a mess of crying and general sappiness, Gideon is sure that soon her sexual genius will show itself, and she'll finally top Harrow like she's always imagined.As usual, they go with Harrow's plans instead.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 13
Kudos: 266





	Undone

The first time Gideon and Harrow had sex reminded Gideon of the pool beneath Canaan House.

After everything they had suffered, losing their bodies and regaining them, losing their souls and regaining them, Gideon had not been sure if “one flesh, one end” would survive. They had both always been made of jagged edges, but they had honed those edges against each other for years. At the beginning, they had carved their edges to fit together like puzzle pieces.

After so long apart, Gideon thought maybe they’d been broken in a way that couldn’t come together again.

But then, one night, they’d fallen into each other. It was an awkward, shaking mess. They were two souls who had once shared a body, clinging and pressing as though they could climb inside each other again.

Gideon, for all her titty mags and sex jokes, had found the actual act raw and vulnerable and messy.

In her daydreams, she used her biceps and unshakeable confidence to take care of her necromancer. She always imagined that when the moment came—pun intended in hindsight—she’d find some hidden sexual genius.

Instead, they trembled and there may have been tears (definitely just Harrow, Gideon was Too Cool for that, definitely.)

Gideon decided that the next time would be when her sexual genius would appear.

They were delicate around each other the next day, exploring their new life in their own bodies, but always returning to each other like magnets.

That night, Gideon had a private dinner with Harrow in her quarters. Had Harrow taken off her face paint to show they were going to bang, or just as a statement that the Ninth House no longer owned her? Were the candles some attempt at seduction, or Harrow’s usual sense of formality? Gideon spent the whole meal terrified and mildly horny.

At the end, they stared at each other across the long table.

“So,” Gideon said, gathering her bravado to her like Harrow’s bone armor, “round two?”

Harrow’s smile was sharp as Gideon’s sword, and just as gorgeous. “Oh yes, Gideon. In case it wasn’t obvious, I expect you in my bed every night going forward.”

That was a heady thought. To sleep beside Harrow, to see her every night and every morning. “You’re not even in your bed every night,” Gideon pointed out. “You want me to sleep alone while you pass out in the library?”

“I want to know where you are,” Harrow said. She was looking at Gideon the way she did often now, as though if she stared hard enough she could never lose her again. Even without the face paint, she looked like a warrior.

“I’m here,” Gideon said softly.

“You are,” Harrow said fiercely. “And I’m going to keep you.”

She stalked around the table, wrapped a hand in Gideon’s hair, and kissed her.

And yes, yes, Gideon was on board with this. She kissed back with everything she had. This was like swordplay, except Gideon could not remember being so new to swordplay. She had been wielding her blade as a toddler. She’d only had her first kiss this week.

Still, she’d give it everything she had. Practice made perfect, and Gideon wanted to learn every inch of Harrow.

Harrow took her hand and pulled her up. Gideon followed. She would always follow Harrow. They walked together into Harrow’s bedroom, which was as grandiose as the rest of the suite. In the renovations to the House after everything, they’d cleared out the mildew and scrubbed away the age. Fresh, pale sheets on the archaic frame of the bed seemed a perfect symbol of the new era.

They were also a relief, because at least Gideon could be sure the sheets had been changed since Harrow’s parents had owned this chamber. She did not want to think about the horror of Harrow’s conception. (She’d grappled with the massacre long ago. It was the sex that haunted her now.)

“Undress and get on the bed,” Harrow said, finally letting go of Gideon’s hand and beginning to unbutton her own cuffs.

Gideon started undressing obediently, but asked, “You don’t want me to...?”

“No need to fumble with each other’s buttons when we can undress ourselves in our sleep.”

“Romantic. Don’t you want a little seduction, my sepulchral queen?”

“What I want,” Harrow said silkily, “is you naked as quickly as possible. Get to it.”

The problem with Gideon’s official cavalier uniform was that it had far fewer layers than Harrow’s. Also, Gideon stripped with military efficiency, only to look up to find Harrow’s still slowly, slowly, unbuttoning her robes.

She felt very very naked. There were candles lit around the room, illuminating her skin—and her scars. Even the Sixth’s healers hadn’t been able to get rid of the evidence of the spike that had gone through her gut.

Harrow didn’t even like skin, did she? She probably would have been happier if Gideon had been devoured by piranhas down to the bone.

“On the bed,” Harrow instructed. “Put your hands on the headboard and don’t move them.”

Gideon followed her instructions, clasping the metal bars of the headboard. They were cold under her palms. She looked down the length of her own naked body to Harrow, who was standing at the foot of the bed and staring at her like she was a feast. Maybe Harrow wasn’t as fussed by the skin as Gideon had expected. She was looking at Gideon’s tits like she thought they might do a magic trick.

“You want me like this…the whole time?”

“That is what ‘don’t move’ usually means.”

“I, uh, sort of thought I’d top,” Gideon said, swallowing with difficulty.

Harrow laughed. “Gideon,” she said. “What part of any of either of our existences made you think that? You’re my cavalier. My hands, my muscle, my body. Do you know what it felt like the first time I realized it in Canaan House, that you’d do anything I asked without thinking twice?”

“Um.” Gideon was so turned on and confused she thought she might die.

“You never listened to me when I was the Lady of your House,” Harrow said. “You never listened when you thought you were supposed to. I thought you were contrary to be contrary. But I was wrong. You listened when _I asked you to_.” She shook her head and finally dropped her robes. She stood casually naked at the end of the bed, as blasé about her own nudity as she would have been fully dressed. All of her attention was on Gideon. “I could only control you because you wanted to be controlled. And I realized I would do anything to have you kneel for me.”

“This is,” Gideon said, her voice choked with longing, “a supreme waste of my biceps.”

“I’ll do something to test your strength at some point,” Harrow said. “But this is what I want tonight. Anyone with eyelashes and a pulse can make you flex on cue. We both know I could summon skeletons to hold you down. Maybe you’d have fun fighting against them, even. But I want you to _stay still_ for me. I want you to take all that strength of yours and hand it to me for the night. Will you do that?” She grinned the way she grinned when she was about to strike a killing blow. “Please?”

Gideon had to close her eyes. “Yes, yes, of course _yes_ , you monster.”

“Good girl.”

Dry fingers suddenly plucked one of her nipples.

Gideon made a strangled noise and opened her eyes again. Harrow had moved swiftly and silently to stand alongside the bed. She trailed her fingers up to Gideon’s throat and petted the vulnerable flesh there delicately.

Harrow was clearly delighting in Gideon’s submission. The skinny scrap of a girl was in complete control, and Gideon had handed her the reins. Well, Gideon had always known she was crazy.

Harrow stepped back and slapped one of Gideon’s thighs with a bright, stinging blow. “Open for me, Gideon,” she said.

Gideon sprawled her legs wide without hesitation, and Harrow climbed onto the bed between them. She kneeled between Gideon’s legs and surveyed her from her cunt to her white-knuckled hands and then back down again.

She scooted forward so her knees pressed against Gideon’s thighs, spreading her even wider, and then she leaned down to kiss her on the mouth.

She kissed without finesse, like she was trying to eat Gideon alive, and it took her breath away.

Then, Harrow pulled back as though the interlude had not happened, and ran gentle fingers across Gideon’s collarbone.

“Hn,” Gideon said.

“You’re beautiful,” Harrow said.

“I’ve never heard you say that about something alive,” Gideon said.

“Still making snarky comments,” Harrow said. “That won’t last long.”

“You’re so sure that—oh.”

Harrow was now using both hands to play with Gideon’s nipples like they were the dials of a very finnicky antique radio. It was the ghost of a touch.

“Of course I prefer you alive, you idiot,” Harrow said. “The things you say, Griddle.”

“Then don’t kill me,” Gideon said.

Harrow continued playing with one nipple with one hand, and used her other to float down Gideon’s stomach. Gideon flexed—how could she not?—and Harrow obligingly traced over her abs.

“You can handle this,” Harrow said. “You’ll take everything I give you.” She suddenly twisted fiercely with her fingers, and a bolt of sharp pleasure shot from Gideon’s nipple straight down to her clit.

“How do you even know what you’re doing?” Gideon asked. She was sure Harrow and Ianthe hadn’t ever…

“I have a body too, Gideon.”

The idea of Harrow cautiously exploring her own body was more than Gideon could handle. Had Harrow ever touched herself when Gideon had been sleeping in the room next door at Canaan House? Had she ever thought about Gideon, the way Gideon had definitely thought about her? Even when Gideon had pretended to hate every inch of Harrow, her fantasies had involved waifs and sharp smiles.

“I would have thought you’d think that was…” Gideon had to trail off as Harrow spread her palms to grasp Gideon’s tits. They were small, though bigger than Harrow’s, and fit even in her necromancer’s slim hands.

“Yes?”

“Beneath you.”

“I’d rather have more interesting things beneath me,” Harrow said, hungry. “I didn’t always make time for myself, of course. I had other priorities. But on late nights… When you would swagger past, covered in sweat… I didn’t think of you like this, then. I thought we’d scratch each other to pieces. But that’s not as fun as this, don’t you think?”

She continued to play with Gideon’s tits like they were a brand-new bone she was the first to discover. Her gaze stayed on Gideon’s face throughout, cataloging her every expression. Gideon had never been good at stoicism, and she liked the satisfaction in Harrow’s eyes when Gideon’s mouth fell open to breathe more heavily.

She couldn’t touch Harrow back, but the necromancer wasn’t unaffected.

Gideon squirmed under her insistent touch. She kept waiting for Harrow to move the show along, but she seemed content where she was. Gideon’s untouched core pulsed in the cool, damp air.

“Why,” Gideon asked through pants, “are my legs open if you’re not going to fucking touch me?”

Harrow grinned, bending and licking a nipple in a quick flash. “I don’t want you to forget you’re mine. You’ll stay like this because I want you to. Ready and waiting for me.”

“Fuck, you know I will,” Gideon said when Harrow seemed to be waiting for an answer.

Harrow moved from her tits after another minute, but continued to trace her way over Gideon’s body with a scholarly intent. It was though she had finally learned about the stuff that goes over bones, and wanted to learn it as thoroughly as she knew skulls and tibias and phalanges.

If Gideon had expected her to skirt over the star-shaped scar, she was dead wrong.

Harrow pressed a kiss to the center of it.

“You don’t have to…”

“You brave fool,” Harrow said. “I wanted to never forgive you for this.”

“Torturing me with blue balls doesn’t feel like forgiveness.”

“Doesn’t it?” Harrow asked, her tongue tracing the outline of the scar.

Gideon couldn’t answer. This _was_ torture. It also felt a bit like worship. And she had seen Harrow devout—to the Emperor, to the Tomb. The fervor in her eyes was familiar, but this was intimate and direct. Her parents had not demanded this loyalty of Harrow—they’d wanted Gideon dead. This was all Harrow, a devotion borne of their years of entanglement.

“Hey, was ‘one flesh, one end’ always an orgasm innuendo?” Gideon wondered out loud.

“Babble all you want,” Harrow said. “I won’t go any faster.”

“Holy fuck,” Gideon whined.

Harrow traced every inch of Gideon. She found the sensitive spots that made Gideon writhe, and lavished on them. She found the ticklish spots that made Gideon flinch, and tormented her nerve endings until Gideon thought she would scream. It was exquisite and too much, and Gideon could not get enough.

She still did not let go of the headboard.

“You’re mine,” Harrow pronounced.

“Yours, yours,” Gideon panted.

Finally, finally, Harrow traced those clever fingers over Gideon’s cunt. She grinned with wild delight. “Oh, Griddle,” she said. “You’re so wet.”

“Of course I’m fucking wet,” Gideon panted.

A finger slid inside Gideon. Over the years, Gideon had fucked herself with her fingers many times—there weren’t dildos on the Ninth, and she’d refused to use any of the bones laying around, so she’d been limited. Finding something clean and not-dead in the Ninth was not easy. This should have felt familiar, but it didn’t. This was Harrow _inside_ Gideon.

“I understand now,” Harrow mused. “The fascination with bodies. Clench around me, Gideon. Yes, just like that. I told you all those muscles of yours belong to me.”

“Glad,” Gideon said through the rush of pleasure, “I did those Kegels.”

“You’re going to come for me,” Harrow said, ignoring that. And she was, she was. Gideon felt like every nerve was on fire in her body. She couldn’t hold on much longer. “But not until I say you can.”

“Fuck,” Gideon said with passion.

“Hold on for me,” Harrow said, and began sliding her finger in and out. She moved her other hand to Gideon’s thigh, reminding her to stay spread wide. She stroked her skin gently, as though trying to calm her down even as the finger inside of her picked up intensity.

Gideon swore again, but reined her body in. She could fight through broken knees and bloody teeth for Harrow. She could withstand endless pain for her. She would not be beaten now by pleasure.

After who-the-fuck-knew-how-long, Harrow added another finger.

It was only a slight stretch, but it made Gideon feel like she might snap. Harrow kept her fingers moving with steadily increasing intensity like she was conducting a skeletal army. She did not need to be strong to take Gideon to pieces—she was subtle, steady, and ruthless.

When Gideon thought she wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, Harrow moved her hand from her thigh to rub over her clit.

“Oh,” Gideon groaned as the pleasure spiked.

“Gideon,” Harrow warned.

Gideon bit her tongue, trying to hold back. The pleasure was undeniable, and she could not summon any thoughts that made it easier not to come. There was only this—more pleasure than she could bear, and an instruction from her necromancer not to succumb.

As always, Harrow’s orders won.

“You’re doing so well,” Harrow murmured, still watching her expression like a hawk.

“Please,” Gideon said.

“Beg for me,” Harrow said.

“Please, please, please,” Gideon said. “Harrow. Fuck. Please. You’re so good. So good. Please just let me…”

“You could hold on forever for me,” Harrow said, awed.

Gideon nodded once. She wanted to beg more, to ask Harrow not to make her, but Harrow would do whatever she wanted. And Gideon would do what she asked.

Harrow leaned down and kissed Gideon’s hipbone, and then ran her teeth over the ridge gently. “Come for me, Gideon,” she instructed, meeting her eyes again.

Gideon shattered. The pleasure broke over her and shuddered through her from head to toe. She held onto the headboard and thrashed as it pulsed through her.

Harrow worked her through it, murmuring as she did, “Yes, yes. You’re beautiful. Feel every bit.” When Gideon finally stilled, she pulled her hands away, climbed up Gideon’s body, and kissed her ferociously.

Gideon, feeling like an overcooking spaghetti noodle, met her gamely.

“I knew you could do it for me,” Harrow said, as fierce and triumphant as she was after tackling some necromancy feat never done before.

“You, ah,” Gideon said. Her tongue felt heavy. “That was all you, honeycake.”

“A necromancer’s direction does no good without someone to direct,” Harrow pointed out.

Gideon smirked up at her. “Can we say now that boning is more fun than bones?”

“Don’t push it,” Harrow said, though she was still looking at Gideon like she was the brightest star in the sky. She shook her head. “Gideon.”

“Mhm?”

“Just thinking,” Harrow said. “You truly are amazing.” She leaned down for another kiss. Her hips tilted against Gideon’s stomach, and a slick of wetness told her that Harrow had been as affected by all of this as she was.

Harrow sat up and smiled down at Gideon, and then looked away. “I should…”

“Sit on my face.”

“What?” Harrow, who had been astonishingly composed so far, turned bright red.

“You are not walking out of here without an orgasm,” Gideon said. “I’m yours for the taking.” She flicked her tongue out, and Harrow watched it closely. “I’ve been told my mouth has to be good for something. What was all the chatter for if not to prepare me for this?”

“I’m not sure…”

“You can practically tie me to the bed, give me the best orgasm of my life, but you won’t let me tongue-fuck you? Come on,” Gideon said. “Give me a treat.”

“Your treat was the orgasm,” Harrow said primly. “At some point, I’ll see how long you can go without.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because it will make it so much sweeter when I finally let you come,” Harrow said. Did Harrow notice she was grinding subtly against Gideon’s chest? Her expression had cooled, but her hips could not stay still.

“I get the feeling you’ve thought about all of this a lot,” Gideon said.

“I like to have a plan for every eventuality,” Harrow said.

“Does one of those plans include face-sitting?”

“If you want it to,” Harrow said carefully.

“I would kill at least four people right now if it could get you to let me taste you,” Gideon said. “I’m not even kidding. You’ve thought about denying me and tying me up. Let me _give you_ something.”

Harrow examined her face, and then nodded. “Keep those hands on the headboard.”

Gideon groaned, but stayed still as Harrow scooted forward. “I’d feel so good inside you,” Gideon reminded her, coaxing.

“Someday, you will,” Harrow said. “I told you—I want you to put that muscle aside for one night and let me use you.”

“Use me,” Gideon repeated like a prayer as Harrow knelt over her face. “Fuck,” she whispered. Harrow was gorgeous, swollen and wet beneath dark, secret curls.

Harrow hesitated, hovering over Gideon’s face.

Gideon, losing patience, lifted her head up and licked a long stripe between her folds.

Harrow made a strangled noise and grasped the iron bars just above Gideon’s hands. She could feel the edges of Harrow’s fists against her own.

“Head down,” Harrow instructed, but Gideon had finally knocked her from her moment of doubt. She lowered herself within Gideon’s reach, and Gideon lost her mind.

There was probably a way to do this with finesse. But Gideon wasn’t allowed to use her hands, was still loose from her own orgasm, and from the continued rock of Harrow’s hips, she didn’t think this would take long. Some day, she wanted to tease Harrow as much as Harrow teased her. Tonight, she wanted to get Harrow off, and get her off now.

“Hn,” Harrow said, pressing down against Gideon’s lapping tongue.

Gideon traced over her folds and tried to lick up inside her. She didn’t know where to start. She wanted to taste every inch of Harrow.

Finally, she moved her attention to Harrow’s firm clit. She laved it gently at first, dialing back some of the enthusiasm, and then built into an unrelenting rhythm. She hadn’t been kidding with Harrow—surely all her tongue-waggling since she’d been old enough to talk was worth something.

Harrow seemed to think so.

“Oh, Gideon, your mouth,” she said.

Gideon couldn’t use her voice, couldn’t use her hands. She was Harrow’s for the taking.

Still in a heady high from the orgasm and reality of Harrow’s musky taste and scent, Gideon felt separate from time as Harrow pulsed on top of her.

With a groan, Harrow dropped her hands from the headboard into Gideon’s hair. She clutched it with desperate fingers. “Gideon,” she moaned, and then shuddered.

Gideon kept licking her as she came, straining against the fingers in her hair and her tired jaw.

Finally, Harrow lifted up just enough to scoot down, and then collapsed like a blanket over Gideon’s body. Her skin was warm and sweaty, human in a way Gideon had once not imagined Harrow had in her.

“You’re,” Harrow said, and decided to kiss Gideon instead of continuing.

She didn’t seem to mind the taste of herself on Gideon’s tongue, and pulled back to stare at Gideon in awe.

“Stop looking and cuddle me,” Gideon said, holding open her arms.

Harrow tucked her small form against her, and Gideon hugged her. She would die for this scrap of a girl. She _had_ died for her. It was astounding they could be here together. No pain, no death. Only joy.

“You know how I sometimes make fun of how many contingency plans you make?” Gideon murmured, stroking a hand down Harrow’s jagged ribcage. “And how you can’t just go with the flow and like to be in control all the time?”

“I’ve noticed,” Harrow said, but she was boneless against Gideon’s chest.

“I take it all back,” Gideon said. “10 out of 10, would let you fuck me in any way you please.”

“Good,” Harrow said, tilting her head to kiss Gideon’s collarbone. “Now quiet. Sleep.”

“Love you,” Gideon whispered, voice catching.

She could feel Harrow’s smile against her skin. “I love you too, Gideon.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first Gideon the Ninth fic! I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://starknjarvis27.tumblr.com/)!


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